A major work deadline looms, so just a question for the readers.
Are you prepared for a disaster? Do you have a bag packed with essentials? Is the camping gear handy? A full tank of gas and a case of beans? An escape plan?
I’m not. I believe I could locate a year old Trader Joe’s burrito in the back of the freezer and a jar of capers in the cupboard, but not much more than that. I never have more than a buck in my wallet. Good thing that I’m invincible.

No, we are not even remotely prepared for a disaster. In fact, disaster preparedness is something I’ve scoffed at in the past. I’m a scoffer, it can barely be helped.
We’re moving into our first home tomorrow and my husband has smartly insisted that we follow the suggestions for earthquake preparedness.
Just as a side note, I’ve lived in California my entire life and I remember at a very early age being told that it’s important to have supplies available for at least three days because it could take that long before help could come for you.
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We started with good intentions. The last hurricane we lived through was before children. Now we own a generator (but how much gas do we have?) We have water but not enough. We have canned food but not enough…I guess we all suffer from that invincibility defect!
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After 9/11 I was put on my office’s disaster recovery team, and boy did that open my eyes. Cases of water got put into that never-used coat closet by the server room. We started doing the same kind of stuff at home, but I tell you, it’s really hard when you live in a very small house in the city. The two cases of water have laundry piled on them much of the time.
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Not even close. But I did check the NYC hurricane map (a real eye-opener, by the way) and w are just outside the most stringent evacuation zone, so I feel better about our chances to escape.
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I’m not in a terribly major-disaster prone part of the country, so no. But I do carry an emergency winter kit in my trunk once the season looms near – blanket, flashlight, coffee can with emergency candles, matches, bottled water, granola bars..that sort of thing.
Of course, the house usually has a fair collection of canned goods and bottled water/juice. We have tons of blankets, oil lamp and candles, and a charcoal grill and gas stove for cooking, so when the eventual weather-induced power outage occurs we just sit tight.
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A lot of Mormon families make a fetish out of emergency preparedness; mine didn’t, but Melissa’s did, and so we have an element of that sensibility in our home. We have some food storage, some purified water, first aid kits and other emergency equipment, flashlights with extra batteries, a bunch of no-doubt-nutritious-but-probably-also-indedible “energy bars” bought who knows how many years ago, powdered juice and milk, etc. I’ve never thought about how we would actually make use of it, should an actual disaster strike (frankly, unless things were truly dire, I’d much rather abandon the food storage and take family photos with me, if it came down to such a choice), but at least it’s there.
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Living in South Florida, our biggest disaster threat is, of course, a hurricane. We were in Punta Gorda, Ground Zero, for Charley last year. Our plan consisted of sitting tight through the Category One and Two levels with water, batteries, and some dry goods. When the storm rapidly increased to Three and Four, we got the hell out of there — we’d been through Andrew — and headed to the east coast via back roads with the clothes on our back, pets, and one lockbox containing birth certificates, passports, jewelry, and guns (already conveniently in the car because we were just moving into the house.) After dropping kids, pets, and valuables with relatives, my husband and I stopped at Home Depot for chainsaws, and the grocery store for extra water and bugspray, then immediately returned to assess the damage (unbelievably, none.) We arrived before emergency services could. Our current plans, based on the success of our Charley experience, would be exactly the same: If we can’t ride it out, stay mobile, running inland on lesser known county roads in a direction opposite the projected path at the last possible moment. While waiting for the storm to pass, fuel up the car, get a bite to eat, get some additional groceries, ice, and batteries, then try to head home. If it’s a really bad storm, there’s no preparaing — your supplies may well have blown or washed away.
However, in the event of another major terrorist attack, I’d say we’re screwed.
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I live in a part of the country that gets winter snowstorms and ice storms so I always have on hand enough food to last my family a couple of weeks, plus lots of candles, firewood, etc.
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I’m pretty sure we have two jars of capers. But with the exception of some Zinfindel–and not enough, come to think of it–we really don’t have any stored beverages. Having grown up in serious earthquake country, I know what it is to grow up in denial. But the lack of preparation seems utterly foolish today. I prommise to address that *before* I use all those capers.
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I thought about this post today when I was reading the New York Times article on preparing for emergencies (http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/10/business/10prepare.html).
We try to have food on hand, and candles, to deal with power outages and impassable roads for winter storms. I’ve been thinking about organizing some key papers and maybe sending a copy to my sister so she has a set (she lives in a different region of the country). But other than that, I spend more time thinking about the fact that I should organize an emergency kit than actually doing it.
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Natural catastrophes aren’t our biggest concern here in D.C. (although Isabel took out two maples in my subdivision). I have some supplies set aside, and an escape plan (to my girlfriend’s parents’ house in the distant exurbs). But connecting up with her (she lives on the other side of the Potomac) in an emergency will be trouble. Most importantly, I’ve made a checklist of what I intend to bring, and where it all is in the house. I’d like to think that I would need only five minutes in the house to collect whatever I’m going to take with me, and then get the heck out.
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